Whiskey And Sociopaths
by x-Pretty-Kitty-x
Summary: At 16yrs old, Sherlock's mother has just died and Mycroft has found him the perfect guardian who will keep him out of trouble until the funeral. Unfortunately, Sherlock isn't the type to care for anyone, that is until a young orphan ends up on the doorstep and soon the trio become somewhat of a make-shift family. Teenlock, Sherlock/Mrs Hudson, MrsH/S/J, J/S, M/S
1. A New Home

**Whiskey And Sociopaths**

**Chapter One: A New Home**

**Character One: Sherlock**

**Character Two: Mrs Hudson**

**Rating: Angst**

**Genre: Teen**

**Location: Baker Street**

**Prompt: Whiskey**

There was a knock on the door of 221B Baker Street and the lovely housekeeper by the name of Mrs Hudson answered the door. She was greeted by a boy of about nineteen and a younger boy of no more than sixteen, who was currently staring at the doorstep as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Hello, Mrs Hudson. I'm Mycroft and this is Sherlock." Introduced the older boy.

Sherlock made no response and received a clip around the head as encouragement.

"Hi. You can leave now, brother."

"Would you like another clip for your rudeness?"

"Fine. May we go inside now, dear brother?" Sherlock quipped back with a mocking tone.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and followed Mrs Hudson up the stairs.

"And you'll be paying for Sherlock's rent I presume, Mr Holmes." Mrs Hudson smiled warmly.

"Yes, that is all taken care of, Mrs Hudson. Just so long as Sherlock behaves, otherwise I'll find a good boarding school for him."

Sherlock scoffed in return, earning another smack around the head.

"OW!"

"Behave, Sherlock!"

"Fine! Could you please show me my room, Mrs Hudson?"

"Of course, follow me, dear. Mr Holmes, why don't you go into the living room and I'll make us some tea as soon as I've sorted Sherlock here." Mrs Hudson called over her shoulder, ushering Sherlock towards his room.

"Thank you, Mrs Hudson." Mycroft replied, smiling and moving to the living room.

Mycroft took in the small, quite quaint flat and hoped that this new situation should be enough to teach his little brother how to behave better.

He was just pouring the tea into two cups when Mrs Hudson enters the room.

"Mr Holmes, you didn't have to make tea for us, I was more than happy to." Mrs Hudson scolds, good-naturedly, a little embarrassed at her lack of hospitality.

"Not a problem, Mrs Hudson. After all, you will be taking care of my brother so this might be the first decent cup of tea you might have."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true."

"I've lived with Sherlock for fourteen years and his social skills are … lacking, to put it politely."

"Oh, he's a teen, they're not very social at the best of times but he's just lost his mother so it's understandable."

"I believe my brother is using mummy's death as an excuse to act up. He was never attached to anyone or anything, let alone his mother. Ever since father left Sherlock has been … a troubled child, at best. And at worst, well, I hope you don't have to find out. Mrs Hudson, do you have any whiskey in the flat?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, dear. I don't think so, not for a long time, in fact, not since my husband was here. He liked it but I never cared for it really. Not unless the weather was cold and I liked to warm myself up. Why do you ask?"

"My brother has taken to drinking and his poison of choice is whiskey but you weren't to know so I wouldn't worry."

"Oh, poor boy."

Mycroft scoffed uncharacteristically causing Mrs Hudson to glare at him before changing it back to its neutral expression.

"If you don't mind me asking, when is the funeral?"

"Next week, that is why I've brought Sherlock here, there's a lot of planning to be done and I can't have Sherlock's habits' getting in the way."

"Of course, and I will take care of him until then, Mr Holmes."

"I have every faith in you, Mrs Hudson. Now, apologies but I must leave."

"Of course, I'll see you out then."

"Mrs Hudson, there's really no need."

"I will see you out, Mr Holmes, a good landlady does so." Mrs Hudson replied impatiently.

"As you wish, Mrs Hudson."

"Thank you."

"Goodbye, Sherlock. I'll be back soon."

There was no reply from the teenager so Mycroft just continued down the stairs, safe in the knowledge that Sherlock would be well taken care of.

"Farewell, Mrs Hudson."

"Goodbye, Mr Holmes."


	2. An Unexpected Guest

**Whiskey And Sociopaths**

**Chapter Two: A Unexpected Guest**

"Sherlock, please can you help me with the shopping, dear?"

"Boring!" Came the teenager's reply from the living room.

Mrs Hudson struggled up the stairs with the shopping, entering the living room looking very much like she'd run a marathon.

"Sherlock! Have you been there all morning?"

"That depends, how long where you gone?"

"Three hours. I went to the doctor's, then seeing some friends and then did the shopping."

"Didn't notice." Sherlock replied without looking up.

"Now, I put all this behaviour down to your mother's death but now it seems that you're just using that as an excuse not to do, well anything."

"Hasn't my brother told you that I've not emotionally attached to anything, ever since my father died?"

"Actually, he said that you've _never_ been emotionally attached to anything."

"Well, for once my brother is correct."

"Well, you could have at least tidied up, it looks like a bomb has dropped here, and is that a bullet in my wall!"

"Actually, there's four."

"For goodness sake, Sherlock, where did you get a gun?"

"So, my brother told you about the whiskey but not that father taught me how to use a gun at the age of four? I'm surprised."

"Well. That's it! It's been three days and I can't take it. I'm calling your brother."

"Don't worry, I do it all the time."

Mrs Hudson decided not to justify that with an answer and instead went downstairs to ring Mycroft.

There was a knock on the door a few minutes later and Sherlock was determined not to answer it.

"Mrs Hudson, door!"

"Answer it, Sherlock!"

"Fine."

Sherlock all but dragged himself off the couch and strolled down the stairs. He opened the door to a young boy of about seventeen looking desperate for a place to stay.

"Who are you?"

"John Watson, is there still a vacancy here?"

"Well, I'm currently living here so I guess not."

"Please, I'm desperate."

"Well, that's obvious."

"Fine, I'll look somewhere else." John turned and began to walk away.

"You'll have to ask Mrs Hudson. We might have to share and they'll be ground rules."

"Such as?"

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't talk for days on end. I don't eat or sleep very often and I like to shoot things when I'm bored. Would that bother you?"

"Oppose to sleeping on the streets, I think I can handle it."

"Well, as I said, you'll have to ask Mrs Hudson."

"Thanks."

Sherlock stepped to the side to let the visitor in and shut the door behind him, just as Mrs Hudson was finishing her call with Mycroft.

"Sherlock! Your brother isn't happy, he said that you have to … Oh, hello and who might you be, dear?"

"John Watson. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, well, how polite. Can you teach Sherlock some manners too?"

"Well, um …"

"Trust me, dear. It's not that easy so don't worry. So what can I do for you, dear?"

"I was looking for somewhere to stay. I heard about your vacancy but now …" John replied, looking at Sherlock.

"Well, I'm sure you can share with Sherlock."

"Yes, and I've already given him the ground rules …"

"Ground rules?"

"Yes, the things that he shouldn't do."

"Oh. Well, basically just keep the place _clean_ and tidy, and please, _don't _shoot the walls."

"Of course not. Can't promise the same for Sherlock though."

John looked at Sherlock and smiled and surprisingly, he smiled back. Mrs Hudson was sure her eyes were playing tricks because just as quick as it had appeared, it quickly disappeared again.

"Didn't you bring any clothes, dear?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Could he borrow some of yours, Sherlock, just until I go shopping again?"

"I suppose."

"Good. Well off you two go then."

"What about my brother?"

"He'll be round tomorrow."

"Fine."

Sherlock slumped back up the stairs after John, clearly feeling put out about his brother's visit tomorrow.


	3. An Unwelcome Visitor

**Whiskey And Sociopaths**

**Chapter Three: A Unwelcome Visitor**

**AN:**** Okay, the third chapter. And Sherlock isn't too happy about Mycroft coming to check up on him but what will the eldest Holmes think of John ;) xxxxx**

"Ah, Sherlock. How are you, dear brother?"

"Urg, what's _he_ doing here?" Sherlock groaned, rolling his eyes at the sight of his brother.

"Hello." John smiled at the older Holmes.

"Oh, who's this? Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, eyeing the other teenager gleefully.

"His name is John. You will stay away from him." Sherlock replied, as though it was as simple as that.

"Sherlock, that's a bit rude, don't you think?" John interrupted, frowni at Sherlock.

"Yes well. It's not without reason why we _do not_ get along, is it, brother?"

"Oh, Sherlock, that was years ago now."

"I was twelve." Sherlock replied without raising his voice, the darkness evident in his tone despite this.

"It was just a prank. I've grown up since then." Mycroft replied innocently.

Sherlock scoffed in response.

"Besides, you started it." Mycroft replied absently.

"I did not!"

"Now, now, guys. Remember were you are." John interrupted, stepping between the two brothers and holding his arms out.

"John, this doesn't concern you." Sherlock replied darkly.

"It does if you two kill each other amd Mrs Hudson decides she doesn't want co-habitants again. This isn't just your house anymore, Sherlock." John replied, matching Sherlock's dark tone.

Mycroft smiled smugly, nobody had ever undermined Sherlock before and Mycroft loved it.

"John, be warned, I have a very short temper." Sherlock whispered dangerously.

"So. Do. I." John replied, not leaving Sherlock's gaze.

"Now, boys." Mycroft interrupted, standing up and pulling the boys away from each other. "Let's not do this. John, you're right, no fighting."

"Are you ready to leave yet?" Sherlock growled, staring his brother down now.

"Not quite, dear brother." Mycroft smiled, resuming his seat in the chair.

"Then when?" Sherlock scowled.

"Very soon, I assure you."

"So if you're Sherlock's brother then why is he staying here?" John asked abruptly.

"My brother is a troubled child, he needs to be taught some respect." Mycroft replied, as though Sherlock wasn't even in the room.

"Oh, and you expect Mrs Hudson to do that?"

"Well, I hope she can help but for now, I'm keeping Sherlock out of trouble."

"Ha." Sherlock scoffed, throwing himself on to the couch dramatically.

"Sherlock, please." John replied, holding a hand up to silence Sherlock. "Go on."

"Sherlock's mother has just died and as usual, he is being over dramatic about it. He's making it all about himself and I can't trust him not to cause trouble while I arrange the funeral."

"Right. Well, I don't mind helping to keep him under control."

At this, Sherlock's head snapped up with a horrible crack and John shuddered.

"I am not some puppy you can all pass around."

"Ssh, Sherlock. You have my word, Mr Holmes."

"Mycroft, please. And thank you, John." Mycroft replied, standing up and making his way to the door, ruffling Sherlock's hair as he passed.

Sherlock groaned and shrunk into the couch.

"Goodbye, Mycroft." John replied sweetly.

The front door shut and Sherlock immediately jumped up, "Don't speak to me like that again."

"Ha, please. You're sixteen and I'm seventeen. I can talk to you how the hell I like."

"I don't like it."

"And I couldn't care. You're like a child, sulking and moaning about how bad your life is. I've been an orphan since I was six; parents killed in a car crash, my sister became an alcoholic at nineteen and I barely see her more than once a month. Your life _isn't_ that bad, Sherlock. At least _your _sibling cares but your safety, I haven't seen mine in about three weeks now."

"Is that you ran away?"

"None of your bloodly business."

"John."

"Sod off!" John replied, storming off to his bedroom.

"I guess you'll tell me later then?"

The door slammed in response and Sherlock slumped back into the couch.

**So what will happen then? Read the next chapter and find out ;) xxxx**


	4. Apologies

**Whiskey And Sociopaths**

**Chapter Four: Apologies**

**Character One: Sherlock**

**Character Two: John**

**Rating: Angst**

**Warnings: Angst-Friendship, Sexuality Crisis, Angst-Love, sexual scenes**

**Genre: Teen**

**Location: Angelo's**

**Prompt: Apologies**

"John, we're going out. Get dressed." Sherlock announced, knocking on John's door.

"And what if I don't want to?" Came the muffled reply.

"Please." Sherlock whispered.

"What?" John asked, opening the door.

"Please. I want to apologise."

"Where are we going?"

"A little place I know, Angelo's. They know me well there."

"Alright then."

"Good. Now, hurry along."

"Fine." John replied, a slight smile gracing his features.

"Alright then." Sherlock replied, returning the smile.

x..x

"I'm ready."

"Good, well I'll just grab ..." Sherlock paused as his eyes met John's attire.

Sherlock felt something stir inside himself.

"What? Do you want me to change? Too casual?" John asked, feeling self-conscious.

John was wearing black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt that clung to his well-formed chest, a loose deep blue shirt over the top and black converse.

To Sherlock, he looked good, no, he looked ... hot, very hot and Sherlock felt his hormones go crazy.

"... No, um, you look fine. Very ... nice." Sherlock couldn't help the stammering squeak that escaped his lips.

"Good, so are you ready to go."

"Yes, let's ... go." Sherlock replied, grabbing his jacket and trying to clear the disturbing thoughts from his mind.

"Alright."

"It's just down the road." Sherlock smiled as they stepped outside.

"So nice place, is it?" John asked with a smile.

"Yes, of course. Ah, here we are."

"Wow, it's quaint, I like it."

"I'm glad." Sherlock smiled, opening the door so John could go in first,

taking a moment to check the teen out before mentally shaking himself.

"Ah, Sherlock. You are here at last." An older gentleman announced enthusiastically, arms open wide to embrace Sherlock.

"Angelo, so good to see you." Sherlock smiled tightly, peeling the man off himself.

"And who is your friend? A date?" Angelo smiled, looking the other teen up and down.

"No ... no! This is my friend John. John, Angelo." Sherlock stammered quickly.

"Hi, Angelo."

"Hello, John. Nice to meet you."

"Thank you, you too." John smiled, shaking Angelo's hand and following him to find a table.

"Here is your table, boys." Angelo beamed, stopping at a table near a big window.

"Thank you, Angelo." Sherlock smiled, sitting across from John.

"Your usual?"

"Actually, can you bring a menu this time please?"

"Of course."

Angelo disappeared into the back, giving Sherlock and John a few moments to talk.

"So, you look good, John."

"Oh, thank you. You look good too, a lot better than when you're sulking." John grinned.

"Well, thank you." Sherlock grinned back.

"Here are your menus."

"Ah, thank you. Would you like a drink, John?"

"I'll have a diet coke, please."

"And I'll have a lemonade." Sherlock informed Angelo.

"I'll be right back."

"Diet coke?"

"Yes, I want to save my teeth. And I avoid fatty foods when I can to keep my figure."

"You don't need to worry about that." Sherlock replied without thinking.

"Excuse me?"

"I just meant that you're quite slim and well toned, you don't need to worry about watching what you eat."

"Oh, um, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Angelo silently placed the drinks down and left the boys to talk.

"So, um, you never said, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, not my area."

"So, boyfriend then?"

"No."

"Ah, unattached then, like me."

"John, if you're asking ..."

"I'm not, just making conversation that's all." John replied, running his fingers over the grooves of the table.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I'm just not good with idle chit-chat."

"That's fine. We can eat in silence, if you prefer."

"No, I like it."

The waitress brought the food over, smiling at Sherlock flirtatiously.

Sherlock ignored her and began carrying on his conversation.

She cleared her throat. "Can I get you anything else? Another drink? Or maybe, my phone number?" She asked bravely.

"I'm not interested." Sherlock replied, finally looking at her.

"I'm Katy." She smiled.

"Still not interested, Katy. Sorry." Sherlock tried again, smiling.

"Oh, okay."

She walked off and back into the kitchen.

"That was rude, Sherlock."

"She wouldn't take the hint."

"And what hint was that?"

"That women are _not _my area."

"So you're ..."

"Yes, I'm gay, John. Do keep up."

"Oh, well, that's ... fine. It doesn't change a thing."

"It shouldn't."

"Well, it doesn't."

"Good."

They ate in silence and Sherlock paid for the meal.

x..x

"So ..."

"So, what?"

"If you're gay then why don't you have a boyfriend."

"People are idiots."

"Oh, thanks."

"Don't be like that, it's just people. John, if I ask you something, can you be honest with me?"

"Go on."

"Um, I think I might be having these _feelings_ for you. Is that bad?"

"Listen, Sherlock, it's not ... bad but, um, this is difficult to say ... I'm _not_ gay. I'm sorry but I'm just not."

"Oh. Right, I'm sorry, John. I'll go to my room, goodnight."

"Sherlock, you don't ... have to."

But Sherlock had already run to his room.

John looked around the room and decided maybe sleep was best too.

x..x

"John. John?"

Sherlock sat straddling John, tapping his cheek to try and wake him.

"John."

John murmured but didn't wake up.

"John."

"What, Sherlock."

"Listen to me. John. Wake up."

"Sherlock, go back to bed." John swatted Sherlock's hand away with closed eyes.

"But, John ..."

"Go, Sherlock."

Sherlock wasn't giving up so easily, he had a theory and it needed to be tested.

He leaned over the other teen, placing his hands either side of his head to brace himself and kissed him softly on the lips.

John made no response so Sherlock tried again, slightly harder this time but still as gentle.

Sherlock got a little adventurous due to his hormones running wild and gently nibbled John's lip, causing the other teen to moan a little. When he moaned, Sherlock stuck his tongue in John's mouth; exploring it curiously.

John kissed back a little, grabbing Sherlock's hips. Slowly, he ran his hands up Sherlock's sides and then his chest ... then he stopped. His eyes flashed open and horror took over.

Immediately, John pushed Sherlock off and sat upright.

"What the hell, Sherlock?!"

"John, I tried to wake you."

"So what, when that didn't work you just decided to mouth rape me!"

"John, don't be so dramatic. Besides, you liked it." Sherlock whispered, looking at the bed sheets.

"What?"

"You moaned when I bit your lip and then when I stuck my tongue in,

you grabbed my hips."

"Sherlock, I thought that ..." John started, before he saw Sherlock's wounded look.

They both knew what John had been about to say and just the thought had emotionally kicked Sherlock.

"I'm sorry ... Um, if it helps, you're ... um, an alright kisser." John replied softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah, um, listen, I've never had a gay relationship before, but ya know, we're young and I'm still up for ... experimenting. If that's what you want?"

"You'd do that, for me?"

"Yeah, why not? It could be fun. Besides, we're both single so we won't be hurting anyone."

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

"So long as you don't tell anyone I gave in so easily." John smiled in response.

"That was you giving in _easily_?" Sherlock asked, sounding a little shocked.

"Exactly." John grinned, slapping Sherlock's leg playfully. "And now that I'm actually awake, come show me that kiss again."

John grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him towards him, pulling the cover back.

"God, you are so hot." Sherlock replied, taking in John's naked chest.

"Um, thanks." John blushed bright red but continued to pull Sherlock towards him.

"Just relax ..."

"Sherlock, it's only a kiss, I'm sure I'll be ..."

Sherlock interrupted John's words with a tongue straight into his mouth. John moaned in response and grabbed Sherlock's hips again, this time he dug his nails into them; pinning Sherlock in place.

Sherlock began exploring his mouth again, glad that this time John was more than complaint to let him. He kept his lips gentle but his tongue was hungry to taste John.

John continued to moan and scrape his nails over Sherlock's hip bones, before dragging his nails up Sherlock's back; marking him with deep scratches and causing the teen to moan loudly.

"I love ... that you ... want to mark me, John." Sherlock panted between kisses.

"God, you're so good, Sherlock. Wow ... bite me."

Sherlock did as he was told and bit John's neck hard.

"Sherlock! Oh, that's fucking amazing. Where the hell did you learn this?"

"I had a lot of _acquaintances_ that were keen to teach."

"Wow, remind me to thank them."

"Ha, no. I'm not letting them have a chance at you."

John pulled Sherlock away a little, "That sounds a bit like a commitment, Sherlock."

"And?"

"_And_? We're making out and you're making _commitments_?"

"Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah." John replied sadly.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock apologised, pulling away from John.

"You don't have to leave, Sherlock. I just don't want to rush _this_."

"And what is _this_, John?" Sherlock asked desperately, standing at the door. "A bit of experimenting? And what if I want more than that, John?"

"Sherlock, we've known each other four months! Do you really want to rush into a relationship based on a crush?"

"How do you know it's just a crush, John?"

"Well ..."

"Do you know that I never get close to anyone. I wasn't even close to my own mother!"

"Sherlock, I didn't know ..."

"That's because I didn't tell you!" Sherlock shouted, pacing the room.

"Sherlock, stop pacing, please." John replied, getting up off the bed.

"Sherlock!"

There was a loud bang as Sherlock's back hit the wardrobe and John's tongue dived into his mouth.

Sherlock tried to fight the other teen off but John was much stronger and pinned his arms above his head.

He probed his mouth ferociously, taking in every taste and at the same time, trying to dispel Sherlock's anger.

Sherlock gave up his fight and relaxed into the body pressed again his, while the tongue continued to dark around his mouth. He moaned and pressed his erection into John's; the other teenager moaned loudly in response.

"Listen, I can't promise you a relationship, but I can promise you that if it get's too far and I don't feel the same that I'll help you through it."

"You mean help me get over you?"

"Yes."

"What if I don't want to get over you?"

"Oh God, I'm so stupid. I should never have agreed to this. You're too emotionally fragile to deal with this like any other person. What have I done? Sherlock, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I mean, we might be okay, if we just try first."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And then if you don't feel the same, we'll call this off. No hard feelings and we can still be friends."

John nodded in reply but inside he was reeling; being _friends_ after a break up never went as planned.

"Come on, let's sleep now." John smiled softly, pulling John back to his bed.

"I could go back to my own room."

"What's the point when there's a perfectly good bed here that can fit two."

"Alright." Sherlock smiled, climbing into bed with John and curling into his side.

"I won't hurt you, ya know." John replied sadly.

"I know." Sherlock smiled, leaning up and kissing John's cheek.

"Good." John smiled back, kissing Sherlock's forehead.

"Let's sleep. We can talk in the morning."

"Yeah, we can. Night, Sherlock."

"Night, John." Sherlock smiled sweetly, curling back up into John's side and wrapping his leg around John's.

_Very possessive. _Was John's last thought before he drifted into sleep, the younger teen lightly snoring away into his chest.

**So was it good? Being teenagers is so great because its the perfect time to experiment ;) xxxxx**


End file.
